IWAIAABARTSALAWFWTMFFME
by moosemoss
Summary: Which Arwen Is Actually A Badass And Refuses To Sit Around Like A Wilting Flower While The Men Fight For Middle Earth Or, I always thought the Fellowship was rather stupid for not bringing a Healer with them.


**Just a couple notes before we get started.**

 **1\. I do not own Lord of The Rings, The Hobbit, or any of the mythology, characters, and places created by J.R.R. Tolkien.**

 **2\. I am completely un-beta-d. Feel free to point out any mistakes. Just don't get too nit-picky. I refuse to put in the proper accents because I'm a lazy writer. Some things I based off of the wiki page, and some things I made up. Don't kill me.**

 **Alright, now that that's out of the way, I just wanted to have some fun with this. It has been a long time since I read the books, so this story will probably follow more of the movie's plot, just fyi. If that bothers you, sorry. Some characters not featured in the films will appear, but I don't think I'll give them big roles. This is an Arwen centric story, but I won't be changing any romantic pairings. I like them the way they are. I always felt that she was a character full of potential that was never reached, so I wanted to expand that.**

 **As of right now, what is written in this chapter is what I have. I would love to continue the story and I have a few ideas of how to go about doing it but most of them involve some pretty heavy canon divergence. Again, sorry if that bothers you.**

 **So, without further ado, here we go.**

IWAIAABARTSALAWFWTMFFME

(In Which Arwen Is Actually A Badass and Refuses To Sit Around Like A Wilting Flower While The Men Fight For Middle Earth)

PROLOGUE

Any being who happened to stray into the valley of Imladris could tell you that the jewel of the last homely house of Lord Elrond was his daughter. Arwen was the prime example of what an elleth should be. Elegance, grace, wisdom, and beauty crowned with the demure bearing befitting of the Lady in Rivendell. She was truly one of the most radiant creatures to ever grace Middle Earth. And for the most part, Arwen was glad to let any visitors believe that her bearing as a Lady defined her whole character. There was never any harm in being underestimated, was there? If nobody could see past her mannerisms to the experience beneath it was no fault of hers.

She may be the youngest elf inhabiting the realms, but she had lived for more than two thousand years. Men tend to forget that, and even Elves look past it because, of course, they had lived longer.

She had travelled to Lothlorien and lived among the elves there, studying under the tutelage of Galadriel herself. There she learned that while she had a _very_ minor and mostly inaccurate gift of foresight, her innate magic was more suited to other ventures. Many elves turned their gift inward to enhance their reflexes and senses, making them exemplary warriors. Haldir, who had become a close friend during her time with the Galadhrim, was one of these. Others, like the Lady of the Wood, focused their power in their mind, enhancing their connection with nature and the world around them. And though she tried, it seemed Arwen's magic would not cooperate when she attempted to follow these disciplines.

This did not stop her from honing what skills she could. Her childhood as the youngest elfling in existence, and a female elfling at that, consisted of coddling and cooing and overprotective adults. And while she appreciated the sentiment, by the time she had lived through her first century what was once comforting had become stifling. So she trained. Of course, she had received basic lessons in swordsmanship from her father and brothers in preparation for her journey, but she knew in her heart that none of them ever wished her to master a weapon in hopes that it would keep her from conflict. She knew this, but she completely ignored their unspoken wishes.

Upon reaching Lorien and sending her escort back to Rivendell, Arwen's first order of business besides greeting the Lord and Lady of the Wood was to find somebody to teach her. This is how she met Haldir. She learned that she had little to no talent with a bow, and that her magic would not allow her to move smoothly and quickly like her mentor's did. So, in the absence of natural talent, Arwen practiced. In the mornings and evenings she would move through sword forms until they felt natural and the motions sunk into her bones. Arwen knew that she could not match the strength or agility of most Elven warriors, but her skill and natural grace could easily put the clumsy efforts of Men to shame.

During her lessons with Galadriel, she could see that the Lady of Lorien was growing worried. A frown would grow on her stunning face whenever Arwen attempted the Lady's craft. It seemed that even with the aid of the Mirror, Arwen could only catch hazy glimpses of what probably wouldn't be in the future, what definitely hadn't happened in the past, and the only things she could see in the present were the things within eyesight. In other words, she couldn't trust anything she may have Seen. There were very few Seers left in Middle Earth, and Arwen could tell that Galadriel was becoming weary under the weight of an uncertain future. And no matter how she tried, Arwen could not help bear that burden.

With her talent stubbornly remaining undiscovered and a new sword strapped to her back, Arwen made the return journey to Imladris and the halls of her father. The trek north through the Misty Mountains to her home was wrought with danger. The growing darkness made the orcs more bold, and her blade was soon bloodied with the ichor that runs through the veins of the fell beasts. At her arrival in Rivendell, Arwen could see the subtle disappointment in the eyes of the Elves that came to greet their party. She could tell that they were expecting her to bring back a mate from the Golden Wood. They had hoped for a promise of new life. Instead she came with a sword.

Lord Elrond, indulgent as he was, took it all in stride and began to teach her the arts of healing. Arwen dove into her studies with a fervor that took even her by surprise. She absorbed the knowledge quickly and soon her abilities were flourishing under the careful eye of her father. She had found her talent. Despite this, she knew, that the Elves in the father's House did not completely accept her.

Slowly, the disapproving eyes that sneered at her practical garb of breeches and tunics and the sword on her back began to wear at her. Neither her father or her brothers had a hint of this subtle malice, but her family alone was not enough to bolster her spirits. Soon she began to leave the sword in her chambers. When this did not alleviate the stares, she once again donned the flowing dresses and robes expected of a Lady. The heavy weight of expectations bore down on her shoulders and outwardly she complied, but she did not abandon her habits.

Every morning and every evening she would move through the sword forms. When the herb stores in the House of Healing depleted, she would venture into the wild with her sword and breeches to gather more. On the occasion that her brothers were in the city, she would spar with them. She was often soundly defeated, but the siblings felt no ill will toward each other and valued their time together greatly. As her brothers began to spend more and more time with the Dunedain, her 'unladylike' habits became more and more secret. Eventually the Elves in Rivendell came to believe that their Lady was nothing more than what she appeared. That the short time that she ran about brandishing a sword was a phase long past.

They should have known better. But their ignorance suited Arwen just fine.

 **Let me know what you think! Reviews are always welcome!**


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